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The first principle of success is desire -- knowing what you want. Desire is the planting of your seed.
The first principle of success is desire -- knowing what you want. Desire is the planting of your seed.
We pursue that which retreats from us.
We pursue that which retreats from us.
We are always striving for things forbidden, and coveting those
denied us.
[Lat., Nitimur in vetitum semper, cupimusque read more
We are always striving for things forbidden, and coveting those
denied us.
[Lat., Nitimur in vetitum semper, cupimusque negata.]
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to read more
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow.
Manifest plainness, embrace simplicity, reduce selfishness, have few desires.
Manifest plainness, embrace simplicity, reduce selfishness, have few desires.
Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than read more
Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for.
The desire of the man is for the woman, but the desire of the woman is for the desire of read more
The desire of the man is for the woman, but the desire of the woman is for the desire of the man.
We trifle when we assign limits to our desires, since nature hath set none.
We trifle when we assign limits to our desires, since nature hath set none.
Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted... unbidden... it will stir... open its jaws and read more
Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted... unbidden... it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us... passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion maybe we'd know some kind of peace... but we would be hollow... Empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion we'd be truly dead.